The Adventures of Conan and Max
by John Cusack
Summary: Late Night with Conan O'Brien -- Chapter 3: “Max, this is a dilemma, Max!” Conan cried. “How are we going to be Navy SEALs without the buff uniforms?”
1. Conan and Max and Their First Adventure

The adventures of Conan and Max

**The adventures of Conan and Max**

_The First Adventure / The Wedding Adventure _

Once upon a time in the land of misty satin dreams, Conan was very sad. He was so sad that he spent an entire week doing nothing but eating Jordan's pop-tarts out of an aluminum barrel, playing Halo 3 on the couch, and crying. Also cultivating an impressive patch of furry red beard. Max noted that Conan now looked like a fuzzy little Irish chipmunk… or a freakishly tall leprechaun.

While Conan was crying and playing Halo 3, he saw that Max was lollygagging next door with his brotha, Kazaam. Conan decided to go out and join them, but before he'd taken two steps, he tripped and snapped his carrot. He screamed and pulled it out of his pocket.

"I broke my vegetable, Max," Conan despaired. "That carrot was the only family I had." He stalked off to steal more food from Jordan and proceeded to cry hysterically and play more Halo 3. This would be the carrot's funeral. Conan carefully placed the broken carrot on the seat next to him where it had a great view of the shooting, and he tearfully commenced to shooting up robots and soldiers.

"Where my peeps at?" Kazaam asked.

"I don't know." Max replied solemnly. He got up and headed over to the sacred Halo couch to see what Conan was up to—and sat on the carrot with a loud crunch.

Conan screamed like a girl. "You broke her!"

Max stood up and craned his head backward, trying to see. The carrot had apparently lodged in his pants, and he danced frantically to try and dislodge it.

Conan slapped Max on the butt and the carrot went flying into the wall. He sat down and sobbed. "I don't even have any more pop-tarts!"

"That's okay Conesy," Max soothed. "We can go get some breakfast and everything will be okay again. Anything you want."

Conan sniffled a little. "You—you really mean it?"

_--Later That Morning--_

Carrot shenanigans aside, the day was going pretty well. For breakfast Conan had a beer and a piece of celery. Max had a cooked parrot and a gallon of Jordan's blood.

"We should head over to the grocery store and buy some more parrots and blood," Max decided.

"I don't want to go and get blood and parrots," Conan said. "That's your job. A woman's job!!"

Max gasped and immediately began crying like the woman that he secretly is. "Yes! Yes Conan, I will marry you!"

Conan's chest puffed up in ego. He was getting married! To a dude! How cool is that? he thought to himself.

Of course, he wasn't really certain how this had all come about. He just asked Max to go get the blood and parrots so they could have more breakfast. Still, getting married would be pretty awesome, Conan concluded.

They immediately sat down to make wedding plans. They would have a trampoline, and Jordan wouldn't be invited but they would use a quart of his blood in the wedding cake, and Conan's parents were going to be the flower boy and girl. How creepy.

"Maxikins?" Conan asked. "Could we have a chocolate cake with a photo of Pauly Shore on it?"

"Of course, Conuns," Max said. "I would never say no to you, unless it's got to do with you-know-what."

Conan didn't know what.

But alas, their perfect wedding was not to be! They decided to set the wedding in Argentina, and Conan overlooked one little detail: plane tickets.

They set off in their 1935 rusty jalopy, and puttered down the highway, blowing huge smoke-clouds in the face of anyone who had the misfortune to drive behind them. The car was also falling apart. Soon a crowd of hobos ran behind Conan and Max with garbage bags, eagerly making grabby hands at hubcaps and seat leather and scrap metal that fell off at every turn.

Conan and Max were oblivious to all this. They cuddled the entire way out the highway, and neither of them was driving. It was probably lucky that it was a mostly straight highway, and where it turned, the hobos inadvertently steered the car by grabbing at the sheet metal on the sides.

When they got off the highway, they were at the Jersey shore.

"How beautiful!" Max exclaimed.

They looked happily at the ocean sunset as they drove straight into the tide, and the water carried the car out to sea. Then Conan saw that the car was leaking and they drowned happily ever after.


	2. Conan and Max Are Dead

Conan and Max Are Dead

_Conan and Max Are Dead_

Conan and Max were flying through the air. Except the air was thick and gooey and smelled a lot like blood, and there was somebody giggling.

Max turned to Conan. "Conan, is this what it's like to be dead?"

Conan frowned. "It's not very interesting, is it?"

"No." Max said, dismayed. Then he brightened. "You wanna play 20 Questions?"

"Okay!" Conan said happily. He was rather enjoying this, whatever it was. His hair was fluttering and he realized for the first time that _there are no clothes in the afterlife!_

"Me first." Max said importantly.

"Is it cold-blooded?"

"No!"

"Is it dead?"

"Some of them are!"

"Are they totally awesome?"

"Yes!" Max beamed.

"Oooooh, I know!" Conan danced in the air. "The Beatles!"

Max made a frowny face. "Wronggg, you don't win the toaster!"

Conan sulked.

"It's a Navy SEAL!" Max continued, looking pleased with himself.

"That was my second guess."

They fell into a loud silence and watched the air for awhile. Then Conan broke the silence.

"Max, I'm sorry I didn't get the question, Max." he said tentatively.

Max crossed his arms and stared in the opposite direction. His lip was quivering a little.

"You still like me, right?" Conan persisted.

Max stuck his tongue out and made a raspberry.

"You don't like me anymore?" Conan's eyes welled up and he looked genuinely worried. "Cause I love you, Max."

Max wouldn't look at Conan. "Conan, I can't believe you would miss a question like that, Conan. Don't you know me anymore? Has it been that long since we frolicked on the beach and drove a jalopy into the ocean?"

"But the Beatles fit the question!" Conan was aghast. "How was I supposed to know it was a Navy SEAL?"

"Maybe if you were a Navy SEAL you'd be able to tell me." Max taunted in his best hoity-toity voice.

"But I'm not!"

"That's just not enough for me, Conesy." Max continued. "If we're gonna be stuck in this place forever, you've got to _know_ me, Conan. You don't know me _at all._"

Now Conan's lower lip was trembling too. "But Max, I never wanted to hurt your feelings Max!"

Max walked (through the air!) away until the distance between him and Conan seemed sufficient, which was almost exactly one mile. He crossed his legs and started muttering to himself about Navy SEALs and alcoholics and tall pale freckly guys.

Conan was very sad now that he had nobody to play 20 Questions with. How was he supposed to pass an eternity in Purgatory now? Max was so inconsiderate!

But an idea occurred to him. Why couldn't he play 20 Questions with himself?

Who needs Max? Conan could be his own best friend!

Conan's face burst into a sunny grin, and he sat down (in the air!). "I get to go first!" he crowed. He thought for a minute, and then smirked.

"Animal, mineral or vegetable?" he asked.

"Animal!" he replied.

"Cold-blooded or warm-blooded?"

"Cold-blooded!"

"Oh oh, I know!" Conan crowed again. "It's Rick James, bitch!"

"Youuuu win!" he congratulated himself.

He fell into another silence and started watching Max. Max was now pacing back and forth about a mile away, and he was singing a slow, sad country song about Navy SEALs and alcoholics and tall pale freckly guys.

"Okay Conesy, I have another one." Conan plotted.

"Are there lots of them?" he asked.

"Yep!"

"Do they score consistently higher on the SATs as teenagers than _regular_ people?" he asked with contempt in his voice.

"Oh yeah, baby!"

"Are they all-around good Americans?"

"You betcha!"

"Do they pledge to get rid of the _Commies_ and all those damn illegal Mexicans?"

"YES!" Conan was practically jumping with excitement now.

"I KNOW, I KNOW!" he screamed. "It's NAVY SEALS!"

Max's head snapped up like a snapping turtle that had spied a good meal of roadkill. Had he just heard…?

"I thought I knew, but now I know!" Conan yelled gleefully. He started doing the Macarena. In mid-air! "Navy SEALs are the epitome of manliness! They're amazing! They're hot! They're the backbone of this country!

"And you know what, Max?" he continued. "I LOVE NAVY SEALs!"

Max made a little 'o' with his mouth. "Oh Conan, I knew you'd come around!"

He got up and ran the whole mile back to where Conan was doing the Macarena, and promptly smothered Conan in bear-hugs and sloppy wet man-kisses.

Conan was happy again. He may be dead, but he had his 20 Questions partner back, and that was all that mattered.

He was sure gonna miss having Jordan around, though.


	3. Conan and Max Battle Satan

Conan & Max Become Navy SEALs and Battle Satan

_Conan & Max Become Navy SEALs and Battle Satan_

It was a very good day for America.

After an endless period where they did nothing but play 20 Questions (no, literally), Conan and Max decided to get the fuck out of Purgatory.

"But how would one go about doing this?" Conan pondered.

"It's obvious." Max said, puffing out his chest importantly. It made his moobs really prominent, and Conan stared a little.

Max leaned over and whispered conspiratorially. "We need to _become Navy SEALs_ and _defeat Satan!_"

Now it was Conan's turn to make a little 'o' with his mouth.

"But Max, how are we going to do that, Max?"

Max whipped a Navy SEAL uniform out of his non-existent naked pocket. He threw it to Conan, who began marveling over it, and pulled a second uniform out for himself.

Once they had gotten dressed, they stood back and admired each other. Except the uniforms had disappeared and they were now just as naked as they were when they started.

"Max, this is a dilemma, Max!" Conan cried. "How are we going to be Navy SEALs without the buff uniforms?"

"That's okay, Conan." Max said importantly. "After all, the Navy SEAL is a _real man_ at heart, not a uniform."

He sized up Conan, and added, "And I think it's safe to say that we're _real men_."

Conan's heart was just about bursting with love for his 20 Questions partner, and he looked at him with admiration. "Max, you're so cool."

"I know," Max said matter-of-factly.

Once they had gotten their fearsome Navy SEAL weaponry about—and watched the weapons disappear as the uniforms had--, and had practiced with the training Max pulled out of his ass, they decided they were ready to go find Satan.

"Yeah, let's find Satan!" Conan let out a fearsome battle cry, and Max shook his fist at the air.

They stood there for a minute, looking around at the endless thick gory air. Conan whispered, "How are we gonna do that?"

Max looked around, ready to take charge.

Conan waited.

"I don't know," Max admitted, trying to still sound important even though he didn't have the slightest idea what they were doing.

At this, Conan looked around in despair. How could they possibly find Satan if they were stuck in endless air?

Before he could voice this concern to Max, his eye landed on a set of gates leading into a long hall. It looked way far away, but where they were, it was hard to tell.

Max saw it, too. "Is that Billy Idol?" he gasped. Indeed, the man-thing holding reception at the beginning of the hall bore a strong resemblance to Mr. Idol.

"Awesome!" Conan sprinted toward the hall, with Max huffing and puffing behind him all the way.

As they walked up to him Idol noticed them and hissed, screamed, and pooped him self, "JESUS CHRIST!" said Idol "KEEP AWAY DON'T KILL ME PLEASE I BEG YOU!", "What is his problem?" said Max "Ahh I used to use his Bath Tub, and use his Acid, then he found out and said he would tell, So I killed him," said Conan

"Oh, that would explain it," said Max. "That's okay, why don't you put on this Jimmy Carter rubber mask and I'll do the talking?"

Conan nodded. Max conjured the mask out of his nonexistent naked pockets, which were proving to be incredibly useful here in Purgatory, and Conan transformed himself into a naked United States President. They approached Billy Idol once more, and Conan hung back shyly behind Max.

"Wow, I never thought I would see Jimmy Carter naked." Billy Idol remarked.

Conan's eyes lit up. Where?!

Max nudged him in the weenis. "Could you direct us to Satan, please?"

Billy Idol pointed down the hall. "Take the left corridor, it's the third door to the right." He eyed Conan distrustfully, and then turned back to Max. He handed him a button that read

I WENT TO HELL AND I DIDN'T EVEN GET A LOUSY T-SHIRT.

Billy Idol put on a generic salesperson representative smile. "Thank you for your patronage!"

Max proudly pinned the shirt to his left nipple, and walked down the hall. Conan followed suit, looking back bashfully and wondering why he didn't get a button.

One left corridor and three doors to the right later, Conan and Max were standing in front of a steaming door. Max stepped forward, and with all the bravado he could muster, turned the doorknob… to no avail. Apparently, Satan kept his doors locked.

"Max, what are we going to do, Max?" Conan said worriedly.

"Well, in a situation like this," Max began, "there is always a secret way to get in. Ya know, in case Satan loses his keys."

"Like a secret bookcase or a sinister trapdoor?"

"Like that." Max said. He began rapping on the wall and ceremoniously searching every inch of the bare hallway.

Conan started pacing around doubtfully, looking at the ceiling. He stepped on something that made a loud click, and startled, looked down to see a pancake machine had risen from the floor. Beside it was a box of Mr. T cereal and a bottle of syrup; also a pair of bunny slippers and a carrot.

He reached down and poured the cereal, looked around to be sure Max was still preoccupied, and sneakily poured the syrup all over Mr. T's many little sugar faces. The pancake machine immediately began whirring and churning, and started catapulting pancakes onto the ceiling.

Just as the seventh pancake found its home on the ceiling, _Satan's door began to open_!

Conan gasped. Who knew that Satan had a Playhouse-themed office door? He pranced through the door with a sense of purpose, and wiggled his tongue at Max from the other side.

Max gasped, too. How dare Conan find the way in before he, Max, could? He sauntered toward the door and just as he stepped through, it slammed in his face.

"Max!" shouted Conan from the other side. "Max, you have to wear the slippers, Max!"

Max was confused. He looked with dismay at the bunny slippers in front of him, conflicted. Would a Navy SEAL wear these slippers? They looked utterly unmanly.

He shrugged… nobody would see him. Max sneakily slipped into the fuzzy little pink bunny slippers and took a step toward the carrot. Oh yes, he knew what to do now.

He wiggled his toes at the carrot gleefully. How adorable! he thought, just as a full load of manly fully-clothed dead Navy SEALs charged past him. Some of them laughed at the naked man wiggling his toes at a carrot. Max blushed with shame.

But it was not all for nothing, as the door had opened while Max was blushing from his head to his rosy buttocks, and he dashed through the door after Conan as the last of the SEALs passed, every last one of them still laughing hysterically at the public shame Max had put himself through.


End file.
